“Yeah—oh sure. Uh-huh, but we don’t call ’em farms, ma’am. We can take yuh out there—in fact, we came after yuh, but——”
Windy glances at her clothes and then looks at Hashknife, who shakes his head and says:
“Yuh see ma’am, we looked for a man person, who natcherally don’t wear skirts, and we ain’t got nothin’ but a saddle-horse and no extra pants and—Sleepy, fer ——’s sake get in on this explanation, will yuh? Standin’ there like a grinnin’ hyener.”
“I think I understand,” says she.
“Bless yuh for that, ma’am,” says Hashknife, wiping his brow. “That —— Sleepy makes me sore sometimes. Oh, he talks a plenty when he ought to keep still.”
M. J. Haley sees the funny side of things and we all laughs together.
“I’ve got a idea,” says Hashknife. “Mebbe that little store over there has overalls, Windy.”
“I would wear them,” says Mary Jane, and Hashknife grins like a fool and says—
“Come on ma’am; if he’s got ’em we’ll get ’em, and if he ain’t got no back room for yuh to dress in I’ll make him come out in the street.”
He had ’em all right. I dunno how Mary Jane got into ’em, but she did. I let her ride my bronc, ’cause the one we brings for M. J. Haley wasn’t no ladies’ saddle-animal. Yuh can mostly always sometimes tell about a feller, if yuh see him on a high-minded bronc, and we wanted M. J. Haley to measure right up to us.